World of Warcraft: Misfits
by Vanaereis
Summary: A group of Misfits brought together by fate to save Azeroth. What could go wrong?
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

* * *

Netherstorm, Outland - Legion

Veiled by Shroud, Vanaereis steps off the elevator platform onto Stormspire. The two Nexus-Guards at the entrance are oblivious to her existence. Vanaereis smiles, relieved that she was able to remain hidden.

Since Stormspire no longer required the aid of adventurers, sneaking in was the only means. Unless, you could talk your way in, but Vanaereis was never very good at that.

She sneaks past the guards at the entrance and heads towards the Inn. She then sinks into the bushes located to the left side of the Inn's entrance. She crouches low and out of sight.

She closes her eyes and takes a deep breath. She holds for four seconds then exhales. Once all of the air has left her lungs, she takes in another deep breath; repeating the process a couple of more times.

When her mind is clear of all thoughts and distractions, she begins searching for a familiar fee _ling_. A couple of years ago, she discovered that she could sense the power emanating from the magical objects that were within her vicinity, and with practice, she was able to pinpoint their locations.

The market is new and in demand for these powerful long forgotten relics, tomes, and weapons. There is always an Exotic Dealer at the Black Bazaar waiting to buy from her. She has made a killing selling them and plans to continue doing so; _no matter the risk_.

Suddenly, a rectangular outline of white light emerges in her mind.

 _'It's a tome!_ '

Her starry eyes perk open. They glow beneath her black hooded cloak, as she peers at the path before her. She needs to head straight, towards the southeast portion of Stormspire, then along the wall of the second level.

Vanaereis pulls her hood down, making sure it was still shielding her eyes. Then she slowly exits the bush; crouching her way towards Dealer Jadyan. He's an Ethereal that she has had a few dealings with before. Vanaereis recalls the many ways he has tried to undercut her. Luckily for her, that is one of the things she can talk her way out of.

She soon passes the lone Stormspire Nexus-Guard, who she assumes is guarding the corner for some odd reason, then makes her way up the small hill that runs along the wall of the upper level. When she reaches the top, she knees down before the tree. She begins digging through the loose soil. It doesn't take long before she pulls the leather bound tome out.

With a bright smile on her face, she makes her way to the elevator. Her white eyes dazzle with pride; pride for being able to unearth this forgotten relic - undetected. She calms her excitement; as her mission isn't over until she is miles away from Stormspire.

Once she is on the elevator, she begins flipping through the pages of the tome. She still feels the powerful aura that it's emitting.

 _'This may sell for a high price...if I can find a buyer._ '

She thinks to herself as she runs her fingers along the parchment. She's not familiar with tomes and their worth, but she does know that if someone wants it bad enough; _they'll_ _pay any price to have it_.

Vanaereis feels a dainty hand grasp her shoulder, spinning her around. She comes face to face with a golden-haired green-eyed Blood Elf. She just stares at him wondering how in the hell he knew she was there. And in her confusion, he manages to grab the tome from her hands. "Hey!" she yells reaching for it. "That's mine!"

He shines his pearly whites as he holds the tome high above his head. His 6'4 height towers over her 5'9 frame. Vanaereis is unable to reach it; even as she jumps for it. "Thanks." He says as the elevator begins to descend. "Saved me the trouble of getting my hands dirty."

The Blood Elf looks up as Vanaereis clings to his free arm. "Give that back!" She demands as she desperately claws at him, still unable to reach the tome.

"You should be more concerned about them." He gestures for her to look up. Vanaereis stops in her tracks and looks up. She not only sees the two Nexus-Guards that were guarding the elevator but additional Ethereals looking down the shaft. "Those guys can glide, right?" The Blood Elf asks. "They don't look too happy."

"Great." Vanaereis steps back and takes out two ornate daggers from their sheaths located on each hip. She _**eyes**_ him down. "This is the last time I'm going to ask - _nicely_."

When the elevator stops at the bottom the Blood Elf just stares at her. After a few seconds of silence, he blurts out "Well?"

"Well, what?" She retorts.

"Aren't you going to ask, _nicely_?" His demeanor smug and his tone mocking hers.

Vanaereis rolls her eyes then exasperates a sigh, "Please, can I have it back now?" the words painfully escaping through her gritted teeth.

"See, that wasn't so hard, now was it?" He then throws the tome towards her. As she sheaths her daggers in anticipation, his free hand catches it. "Just kidding!" He then turns and bolts off of the elevator, startling the two guards at their post on the ground level.

Vanaereis clenches her fists and bolts after him, leaping off the rising elevator platform. She sprints and manages to be inches behind his heels followed by a horde of Ethereals at hers. "Give it back! I found it!" She demands.

The Blood Elf turns and begins jogging backwards. "Finders keepers." His grin fades as he looks over her shoulder, "Oh, shit!" He turns forward and runs faster.

"You didn't find it!" Vanaereis voice has now escalated into _**rage**_. She uses that rage to run faster, trying to keep up with him.

The Blood Elf laughing, "I found it in your hands!" He yells over his shoulder. They both soon exit the purple dome of Stormspire onto the main road. Vanaereis follows him off the road down the steep hill. They soon enter the area of the former Forge Base: Oblivion.

As they come closer to the cliff, Vanaereis sees a Gnome leaning against a ginormous metal vessel; smoking some kind of herb. Probably Felweed, she quickly notes.

"Cuber!" the Blood Elf calls to the Gnome as he approaches. "We have to go!" He looks over his shoulder, "Like now!"

The Gnome throws the herb down to the ground. "Damn it, Quen! What did ya do?" The Gnome grunts, sounding like a very angry grandpa. Vanaereis determines that the Gnome must be an Engineer as he is dressed in brown pants and shirt with goggles tangled in his green hair. He pounds on the metal vessel and a hatch begins to lower beside him. "This better be worth it!" He mumbles as begins packing up his picnic blanket and lunch.

Vanaereis slows down as she and the Blood Elf approach. She has never seen anything like it before. As she gets closer she sees that the metal vessel has, what appears to be, wings.

 _'Does it fly?'_

She shakes herself free of her trance, and thanks to the Gnome, she now knows the Blood Elf's name.

 _'Now, for the tome...'_

She manages to get close enough to Quen without alarming him and as she reaches for the tome, which is situated between his arm and his torso, the Gnome's grumpy voice startles her. Stopping her in her tracks.

"Is her boyfriend coming after you?" The Gnome asks as he stands in the open hatch of the vessel.

"What?" Quen's eyes meet Vanaereis'. He furrows his brows and pinches the bridge of his nose. "Great...you're still here..."

"What is this?" Vanaereis asks trying to distract them from her true motives.

The Gnome's grumpy demeanor changes to excitement, "It's a masterpiece that's what it is. Built her from an inactive Fel Reaver. And yes, she does fly." He smirks crossing his arms; his stance proud.

The Gnome turns his attention to Quen, "So, this Blood Elf coming with?"

Quen sighs and points beyond Vanaereis. "Ugh, I kinda owe her a ride."

The Gnome looks to where Quen pointed. "Ah, good. Thought the Felweed was causing a hallucination again."

Concerned, Quen lays a hand on the Gnome's shoulder. "You need to lay off of that stuff."

"It doesn't happen all of the _damn_ time." The Gnome defensive.

"Huh, if you say so." Quen chuckles. "By the way, that invisibility potion was crap." He casually states before heading deep inside the vessel.

"I told you! I'm an Engineer, not an Alchemist! You go buy it yourself next time!" The Gnome hollers after Quen. The Gnome begins to mumble, "Help a friend out and they can't say thanks...always complaining..." he continues mumbling as he disappears into the vessel.

Not wanting to be left to the horde of Ethereals, Vanaereis runs up the ramp after them. When she is in the belly of the vessel, she stops in her tracks. Frozen in awe of her surroundings. It was definitely the inside of a Fel Reaver. At least from what she would expect it to look like, minus the modifications of course.

She watches as the Gnome approaches the other end of the vessel that is modified with a tall and wide window. Beneath the window, are two seats and a console full of buttons. The Gnome uses a stool to climb into the chair, located on the left, and begins pressing some buttons.

The Gnome nods at Quen and presses a big button on the console. Air escapes as the hatch begins to rise shut. "You might want to hold on to me." Quen smiles as he grabs onto a strap hanging from the ceiling.

"I'm good." She says apprehensively.

"Suit yourself." Quen's eyes lock hers suspiciously. Suddenly the vessel rises upwards, with a ferocity that knocks Vanaereis off her feet. She falls hard on her derrière.

"Hold on to your knickers!" The Gnome roars with laughter. The vessel then jerks forward.

Vanaereis is able to brace herself, preventing herself from sliding into the wall at the back of the vessel. She begins rubbing her bottom as she looks back up at Quen. ' _Him with that smug look again_.'

"What is this thing?" she asks.

Once the momentum stabilizes, Quen releases his grip on the strap. He reaches his hand to her. "Cuber calls it an Air Pod."

"Used to!" Cuber interjects. "Air Pod is copyrighted." He spats angrily. "Now, it has no name. If ya can think of anything for a flying ship let me know." He voice directed toward Vanaereis.

Vanaereis nods in acknowledgment at the Gnome, then looking up at Quen, she takes his hand. "And you are?" She asks.

"Quen'salas Bloodwatcher." He says pulling her to her feet. "And you?"

"Vanaereis." She shakes his hand. Her confident eyes locking his. She may be different, but by looking at whom this Blood Elf keeps in his company, she may not have to worry if he knew. When she tries to remove her hand, Quen refuses to let go.

"What kind of Rogue are you? I couldn't see you, but I could smell you." He inquires.

"Obviously, a better Rogue than you." Vanaereis bluffs, not wanting to explain her skillset to _him._ "You're the one that alerted the Ethereals, after all."

"Alright, if that's how you want to play." Quen releases her hand. His eyes still studying her. "So, then you must have Safe Fall?"

Vanaereis simply nods, confused by the question. "What about a parachute?" Vanaereis ponders his question then slowly shakes her head no.

Quen sighs, "Cuber?"

Cuber doesn't take his eyes off of the horizon. "I can't fly and cast spells at the same time. Besides, she's _your_ problem."

Quen sighs again. "Fine. We over Hellfire?" Cuber nods. Vanaereis furrows her brows; even more confused.

"What are you guys up to?"

They ignore her. "Just make sure to cast after she's out of the hatch or she'll be levitating in here. We don't need that mess again. That Goblin nearly shot me in the _**EYE!**_ " Cuber rants.

Quen gestures with his hands in a talking motion, mocking Cuber. "Yeah, yeah." Quen then turns his attention back to Vanaereis. Cuber continues to grumble to himself.

Quen looks Vanaereis in the eyes and takes her hand in his once more. His eyes beaming as he drags her to the center of the vessel.

"Hey, I just met you and this is crazy, but here's my mailbox, so write me maybe?" He then shoves a piece of paper into the palm of her hand.

Vanaereis looks down at the paper in her hand; then slowly back up at Quen. Her expression utterly confused. Quen backs away from her. He smiles and reaches up to a remote that is dangling from the ceiling. It has a big red button on it. When he presses the button, the floor beneath her splits open.

Vanaereis begins falling. Wind swirling around her. Her cloak and platinum hair tangle in a wild mess. As she scrambles to remove the hair from her face, she sees that she is too far up to land safely. In that moment, everything begins to slow down.

She is able to shift her body so that she continues to glide downwards feet first. Once she lands on the red soil of Hellfire, she looks back up. She sees Quen waving to her as the hatch closes. She watches as the ship and _**HER**_ tome fly off! Vanaereis crosses her arms. A scowl look on her face.

She had been bested.

Her fault. She knew better.

Vanaereis looks to the horizon, her eyes flaring with rage. She kicks the sand at her feet. A red dust cloud blows away in the wind as she begins her journey across the barren plane of Hellfire Peninsula.

After a few minutes of walking, she tugs her cloak and tilts her head down towards it.

Curious - she sniffs it.

She cocks her head up, "I don't smell..." she snarls.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

* * *

Zangarmarsh, Outland

The cool air tickles Vanaereis' skin sending a deep chill into her bones. She crosses her arms trying to warm her exposed flesh as she descends into a natural pool of steaming water. When her feet hit the bottom she turns to face the entrance of the cave and sits down.

She leans back against a smooth dark blue rock and tilts her head back. She gazes up at the cave's jagged ceiling. Before closing her eyes, she takes a moment to soak up the cascading cobalt blue hues. A sigh of relief escapes her lips as the heat of the water begins to relieve her aching muscles.

Her lips curve into a smile, "Ahh, this is exactly what I needed." she purrs to herself.

The fall from that strange airship had caused her body to go into fight mode and the end result was exhausted and tensed muscles. When Vanaereis woke up this morning she knew that she needed a good soak in the Thermogenic Springs to relieve her sore body and calm her mind. And since she knew the one who was in charge of maintaining the entrance, she was able to sneak in a soak before it was officially open.

Vanaereis yawns and rubs her tired eyes. She spent most of the night tossing and turning as her mind kept wandering to that _**Blood Elf**_.

It's been a while since someone had gotten under her skin. It wasn't as though he had charmed her pants off and she was infatuated -no, it was that he outsmarted her.

Her whole business relies on her finding lost relics and selling them. So how can she keep it going if she can't keep her hands on a measly Tome?

Vanaereis sighs and shakes her head.

"Get it together."

She mutters; bringing her attention back to her current moment.

 _Think_.

She has his name...

Her mind wanders to that crumpled up piece of paper in her pants...and she has his mailbox number...

The moment the lightbulb goes off in her head, she bolts upright.

 _I can find him!_

She smirks.

 _He may have the Tome right now, but he won't have it for_ _long_.

Pleased with herself, she leans back against the smooth rock. She knew that the hot spring would help ease her troubles _and_ help her come up with a plan.

After ten minutes of sitting in peace, Vanaereis rises from the individual pool that she had been resting in. She reaches for the towel that lays on her faded brown leather backpack. She drapes it over her white undergarments as she steps out of the pool and onto the woven mat.

As she dries herself off, her eyes fall to a sign beside the bath that reads:

 _"Please no peeing in the baths"._

She chuckles softly, knowing well enough, that she had placed that sign there two weeks ago and Adredelle hasn't noticed.

 _Or had she?_

Vanaereis begins to wonder if her friend was planning revenge or had already set it in motion; as they have had a long history of grelling each other.

Vanaereis never thought that her best friend would be a Night Elf. She begins to think back to the time when she escaped her servitude as a Temple Dancer at the Black Temple. How she had barely survived the grueling journey from Shadowmoon Valley to Zangarmarsh and wobbling into the Cenarion Refuge.

The first thing she saw were the Night Elves; and she knew right then and there, that she had stumbled upon certain death.

She knew all about the Night Elves and the Alliance, the warring enemy to her home faction the Horde. It wouldn't matter to them that she never fought in their conflict or that she never killed one of their own. No, to them she was Horde through and through - it was either them or _her_.

She'll never forget the fear she felt when she went to retreat and collapsed. Or how she accepted her death when everything started to go black. Or when she awoke to a Night Elf, her predestined nemesis, sitting next to her. She remembers wishing that she had died in her sleep instead of being tortured to death.

But her mind was put at ease when Adredelle introduced herself and explained that the Cenarion Refuge is home to the neutral faction, The Cenarion Expedition. That it's a group of Tauren and Night Elf Druids whose goal is to preserve nature. The second she heard the word Tauren, one of her allied races, she knew she was safe.

And from that day forward, Zangarmarsh became her home; and she had a true friend for 8 or 10 years now.

Vanaereis finishes drying herself off and pulls out her clothes from her backpack. She slips into her slick black leather pants and pulls a red sleeveless high-neckline top over her head. Pulling it down to her mid-torso.

She picks up her black boots from beside the backpack and pulls them all the way up over her knees. Then she buckles her holster around her waist and sheaths her daggers. Lastly, she takes out her black hooded cloak and drapes it over her left arm.

She stops and runs her hands gently over the braid that runs vertically along the top of her head; making sure that no strand had fallen out of place. She continues to feel around her scalp then nods to herself; satisfied that the humidity from the bath did not ruin the smoothness of her high ponytail.

After she fastens her cloak, she begins to shake the towel off. Then she gently folds the towel before placing it in the backpack. She picks the backpack up and slides her right arm through the strap to rest it on her shoulder. She then makes her way out of the cave.

As she steps onto the moistened earth she begins to draw her hood up but notices, that for once, the rain that torments Zangarmarsh has decided to give it a rest. Vanaereis didn't mind the swamp. Its blue hues and giant neon lit mushrooms made it dreamlike and tranquil, _but_ the rain...it made her lethargic and sleepy.

She couldn't understand how anyone could get anything done without taking multiple naps, _that..._ and she missed the warmth of the sun. But she would stay by the side of Night Elf who saved her life. Even if that meant they would never leave Outland.

She releases her grip on her hood and heads towards Adredelle.

"You seem refreshed?" Adredelle comments when their eyes meet.

"I am. Thanks." Vanaereis eyes brighten with appreciation. Her mood is more relaxed and positive. All thanks to Adredelle for allowing her some alone time in the hot spring.

"See? When we take care of nature, it rewards us." Adredelle smiles, her straight and long silver hair flowing as she clasps her hands behind her back. She looks Vanaereis over. "I see that you are back to pretending to be an Outlaw." Concern floods her face. "You don't have to surround yourself with _those criminals_."

Vanaereis diverts her eyes. What Adredelle didn't know is that she was considered one of _those criminals_. The relics she finds are supposed to be returned to the Alliance or Horde, especially the extremely powerful magical ones, but Vanaereis doesn't want to supply their war. So, she sells them to the highest bidder believing that one person would do less harm than an entire army.

"What happens when they find out you're not as bad as you claim to be?" Adredelle chimes in when Vanaereis fails to respond.

Vanaereis smirks. "Then, I'll be _bad_." A coldness emanates from her.

Adredelle chuckles. "Uh, huh." Adredelle's demeanor becomes more somber. "Have you heard anything about Casthador?" A sparkle of hope in her eyes.

Vanaereis shakes her head. "I have not." Her tone just as melancholy. Vanaereis had never met Adredelle's brother. He went on a patrol during the Burning Crusade and never returned. Since he's important to Adredelle, he's important to her. So when she's out relic hunting she keeps both eyes and ears open for any mention of him.

But with each year that passes, Vanaereis loses hope in finding him, but not Adredelle. Her hope is so strong that she refuses to leave Outland without him.

Vanaereis begins to walk towards Adredelle and places her hand on Adredelle's shoulder and squeezes. "I'll find him." She asserts. Vanaereis doesn't look her friend in the eye; not wanting to see the sadness on her face. She releases Adredelle from her grasp and continues walking northwest towards the Cenarion Refuge flight point.

The sparkle lost in her eyes, Adredelle watches Vanaereis leave.

"Asha'falah, Kalendu'a..." she whispers.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

* * *

Netherstorm, Outland

 _Tempest Keep..._

Vanaereis feels an uneasiness in the pit of her stomach as the Goblin Bruiser closes the door behind her. She's been coming here for years and always feels ill. Eventually, it dulls, but it never goes away. The moment she distances herself from Tempest Keep, the moment it passes.

A long time ago, there was a raid against a mad King here. Many died blindly serving him. A part of her wonders if their souls are trapped and that is the source of her queasiness.

Her thoughts stop when she feels the Goblin Bruiser watching her. Not wanting to linger and draw further suspicion she begins walking down the empty and dimly lit corridor towards the Phoenix Hall. She never did decide if the gloomy pink glow, created by the sheer black fabric hanging from the ceiling, was soothing or creepy. The whole keep was draped to turn the light into shadow. Perhaps if she were a true Rogue, she would feel at home.

She pushes her shoulders back gaining height and confidence. She takes a deep breath. As she exhales, she changes her perception of herself. Gone is the nice good girl. That aura got walked on and enslaved. She can't be commandeering with that weak personality, so she learned to display the strong and menacing Kalendu'a. She is feared and no one would dare challenge her since they know the outcome wouldn't be in their favor.

She viciously grins as she passes the two Goblins guarding the entrance to the hall. She takes in the view of the Phoenix Hall. It's a large grand oval room with two ramps on opposite sides that lead to the rest of the keep. The drapery hanging from the ceiling gives the room a dark blue tint. She was told it once held a real Phoenix, the King's pet, but the drapery indicates a low ceiling so she does not see how it was possible a Phoenix was housed here.

Whatever this room was used for, has now been transformed into a lounge and bar for Outlaws, Thieves, and Assassins. Really, any criminal that you can think of has made their way to Tempest Keep to drink, trade, gamble, and indulge in pleasures of the flesh.

They had heard of the Trade-Prince of Outland who had turned the Keep into a criminal's sanctuary, known as the Black Bazaar. It's the perfect place for Vanaereis to sell her relics. Here she is known as an Exotic Supplier and only deals with the Exotic Dealers. Since she mostly stays in the lounge, she doesn't interact with anyone else. The Solarium Brothel and the gambling found in the Crucible are of no interest to her.

Vanaereis continues on her path towards her 'spot' that is on the left side of the room; just below the ramp to the second floor. As she walks, her cloak flows behind her and her energy radiates power. She can feel some of the patrons look her way, but she doesn't allow them the satisfaction of acknowledging them.

She arrives her 'spot' and sits down on the Fuzzy Green Lounge Cushion and throws her backpack underneath the low table that is situated in front of her. She takes in the sight. It's now mid-morning so there are not that many interesting characters. She spots the Draenei couple that comes in every now and then. They dress elegantly and have many flashy jewels. They seem to be enjoying life. Vanaereis sighs. She wishes she could learn their story but they never speak Common.

Looking to the left side of the room, sees a new face sitting at the bar. A female Blood Elf. Her red hair is swept up into an updo and is wearing a revealing purple dress. No Outlaw would risk being remembered and that outfit is memorable. Vanaereis concludes that it must be a concubine from the brothel.

She scans to the center of the bar and sees Kyng's tricorn hat poking up just below the counter. She never did learn if the hat and eye-patch came before or after he earned the name Pirate Kyng. All she really knows is that he enjoys his puns and he makes a damn good Mechs on the Beach.

She watches him rise up with a stein and continues to follow his clumsy human movements as he pours a foamy lager into it. Keeping her gaze steady she sees him head towards the other end of the bar and slides the stein towards the front right corner where a Gnome with green hair sits...

She then spots the Blood Elf sitting on the other side of the corner. His long dark foxtail-styled hair feels familiar to her. The Blood Elf suddenly raises his head and looks towards her. She instantly turns away. Adrenaline begins to rush in her veins and she's beginning to feel flushed. She hopes that he didn't catch her. She clenches her fists when she realizes who she had just possibly made eye contact with; _Quen'salas_.

She takes in a deep breath and exhales to calm her panic. She stays fixated on her fists and rationalizes that he probably was zoned out and didn't even realize their eyes had met. Frustrated she rolls her eyes.

There he was, throwing her off her game... _again_.

She peers up and quickly determines that he isn't looking at her. She diverts her gaze and leans back into the cushion; _relieved_. She takes off her gloves and reaches under the table to place them in her backpack. She pulls out her journal and pen. She decides that the pair are in a perfect candid moment. One that she could use to eavesdrop. Maybe if they felt safe and that no one was listening they would reveal what they have done with the Tome.

She positions herself so that it would appear to others that she was reading, when in fact, she was honing in on their voices. She doesn't have a term for this skill like she does for Shroud. When she first discovered that she could pick up voices, she thought that she had gone mad. For some reason, it's as though the voices just flow towards her.

After a few moments of concentrating, she begins to hear Quen speaking. "Does she know that taking a S.E.L.F.I.E. in here will get her killed?" Vanaereis glances up to see who Quen was referring to. She sees that he is staring at the Blood Elf across from him. "The first rule of Outlaw Hideout, you don't take a picture in the Outlaw Hideout."

The Gnome, Cuber, roars with laughter. "You're no Outlaw. Ya can't even Stealth!" His words almost inaudible.

Quen gasps offendedly. "Hey, it's not like I can pay a fee, click a button, and BOOM! Be a Rogue. Besides, isn't it a bit early to be drinking?" She can hear teasing behind his words.

"Just getting a head start!" She hears Cuber take a big chug of his drink. The slurping and gurgling made her cringe. Sometimes her skills can be a curse.

"If I drink like you, I'd get a tummy ache." Quen whines.

"That's why ya the beauty and I'm the brawn and brains." Cuber spats back.

"Oh! That so? Want to take this outside?" Quen's more amused now. She chuckles at the thought of seeing the tiny Gnome duel the tall Blood Elf.

"I do! And I can show ya how us _mages_ **STEALTH**!" Cuber takes another gulp of his drink, lets out a deafening sigh of satisfaction and slams the stein down. She hears him jump down from his stool. His tiny feet begin moving on the cobblestone.

"Hold on stud. We're here to see Starkiller, remember?"

Cuber groans. "Yeah, yeah. When will he show?"

Vanaereis sees a blurry motion in her peripheral vision. She looks up to see Kyng placing a cup of Black Coffee beside her journal. "The Blood Elf at the bar said to bring you your usual." He points over his shoulder to Quen who in turn smiles and waves nonchalantly.

Vanaereis doesn't acknowledge Quen. "Thank you." She says to Kyng as he parts. She puts her pen down between the spine of her journal and closes it. She picks up the cup and blows over the surface, the steam dancing in a whirlwind fighting against her breath. After a few more blows she gently takes a sip. Vanaereis always wondered if Kyng used magic in each drink as everything he makes tastes divine.

Vanaereis lets out a deep sigh as she leans back into her cushion. Cradling the cup, she ponders her next move. They know that she's here. She could go say 'hi' and maybe get some more information from them.

Like, where that _Tome_ is...

She places the pen and journal back into her backpack then slips it over her shoulders, concealing it beneath her cloak. With her cup in hand, she stands up and makes her way to the bar.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

* * *

The walk to the bar feels out of place for Vanaereis. This is the first time she has approached it. She's the one to never mingle and here she was on her way to ' _mingle'_. When she reaches the bar she places her cup down and sits on the stole beside Cuber. He has already started chugging down another stein.

"I heard you were looking for Starkiller?" she asks but doesn't face them.

"We are," Quen speaks since Cuber is engulfed in his lager. "Do you know him?"

"Perhaps." She elegantly signals to Kyng for a refill. Quen then starts to size up Kyng; studying him.

"It's not him." Vanaereis gracefully rubs her finger along the rim of her cup. She gloats knowing that she has something over him.

"Alright, then who is he?" Quen asks.

She takes a moment to sip her coffee. After taking her time and making him sweat, she decides it might be the perfect opportunity to ask him about what she really came over here for. "Where's the Tome?"

Quen smirks. "Tell me who and you'll see it again." He seems to be enjoying this little game of theirs.

Vanaereis' attention is drawn away by Kyng's approach. He places a new cup of Black Coffee before her. "Here you are, _Starkiller._ " He smiles then takes her used cup and walks away. Cuber slowly puts the stein down. Shocked, he stares at her -foam all in his mustache. She meets his gaze and does her best to keep a straight face when she so badly wants to laugh at his appearance.

"So, you're Starkiller?" She can hear the skepticism in Quen's voice.

"Yes." She knows that Quen's doubts are not baseless. They had met when her guard was down and, _in this world_ , stealing from Kalendu'a will get you killed. And here he was, alive and kicking.

"So you've killed a thousand Night Elves?" His tone more apprehensive.

She stares him down. "How do you think I got my _eyes_ this white?" Her starry eyes glowing beneath her hood. If she falters in her conviction now, he'll never believe her. And she really wants to know what he and the Gnome want with her.

"How?" Now he's really starting to challenge her with his smug look.

"By eating their souls." Her face emotionless. She may not live up to the stories that surround Kalendu'a, but it is her title and her livelihood.

He laughs. "I would have assumed you were half-Night Elf before I'd assume that." He crosses his arms. "So I'm supposed to believe, the cute little girl from Stormspire is Starkiller." He pauses to rub his goatee. "Now, I've seen it all." He adds dumbfounded.

Vanaereis furrows her brows at being called a _little girl_. He's really starting to push her buttons. If she loses her cool now, they'll see she isn't a Rogue and she'll expose her true powers...

"We've seen alotta things." Cuber somberly interjects. "So, stop being rude and be glad ya ain't a Night Elf." He snaps.

Quen leans forward placing his hands on his knees. He looks Vanaereis directly in her eyes, starting a stare off. When she doesn't flinch, he sits upright. "Alright, I'll bite." He reaches under the left-side of his low-cut v-neck shirt and pulls out the Tome. He holds it up and waves it. "This is yours if you help us." He grins devilishly.

Vanaereis squints and curls the corner of her lip in disgust. She noticed that Quen wasn't wearing an undershirt. His chest is exposed, _meaning_ , he probably got his sweat on the Tome.

"Like what you see?" Quen asks noticing that she is ogling his chest.

"Did you get sweat on the Tome?" She raises her eyebrow, ignoring his question.

"Oh." He says disappointedly. He examines the Tome. Delicately turning it over. "You should know that we Blood Elves don't sweat." He winks at her.

"Ya cuz you don't do any heavy lifting!" Cuber chimes in. "I do! Ya just sit and fan yourself."

"Cuber, shush!" Quen cries. "I don't fan myself." He mutters to himself.

Vanaereis tries to hide her smile as she's beginning to realize that she is starting to like this Gnome. Maybe if she did help them, he'd make it more bearable.

She turns her attention to the Tome. It resembles the one from yesterday, but it's no longer emitting that strong magical aura. "Can I see it?"

Quen takes a moment to think it over before handing it to her. She turns the Tome over; examining the outside closely. The leather is worn in the same spots and it has the same etchings. It definitely looks like the Tome. She opens it and soon realizes that the spells she saw are no longer there. She slams it shut and shoves it back. "I can't do anything with someone's journal."

Quen opens the Tome and begins flipping through the pages, double-checking it. "You can read this?" He asks perplexed.

Vanaereis nods. "The one from yesterday had spells in it. I'm not a fool." She takes a sip of her drink then glares at him.

Cuber grabs the Tome from Quen's hands and hurriedly shuffles through the pages. "Quen, what did ya do with the original?"

"That's it! It never left my side!" Quen shouts surprised at the revelation. Vanaereis notices that his voice didn't quiver.

 _So, he's telling the truth?_

Cuber's face is blank as he is uncertain as to what he should be looking at. "I thought ya and ya buddy took it from the Kirin Tor?" He holds it up as he questions Quen.

"Yes, then hid it at Stormspire." Quen begins rubbing his goatee. He must be in deep thought again, Vanaereis notes.

"He must have taken it right from under ya and replaced it with this garbage." Cuber places the Tome on the bar top between himself and Quen. Vanaereis is taken aback. She wouldn't call the journal garbage, she saw the name Malygos and something about a war. It intrigued her. She is a lover of History, after all, so she wouldn't mind the journal, but she wasn't going to tell them that.

She takes one last sip of her drink and stands to leave. "It was nice chatting, but if you have nothing to offer me, then I can't help you." She throws down a few gold coins. As she turns away from them, Quen reaches for her.

"Wait!" His smile beaming. A twinkle of emotion sends a ripple through the green glow of his eyes.

 _Oh, I see. He turns on his charm when he wants something._

"What?" She reluctantly replies.

Quen steps off of his stool and makes his way around Cuber to stand before her. Taking her hand, he gets down on one knee. He looks up, his eyes are enlarged and his lips are curved into an overly dramatic frown, he's giving her the puppy dog eyes. "Will you do this as a favor for me? Please?" Every word was spoken charismatically. How could she resist?

"No." Vanaereis says not skipping a beat.

Cuber belly laughs so hard he almost falls off his stool. "Ya thought that would work?" He wipes a tear away. "Ya must be Duskbat shit crazy to think that would have worked on _her_!"

Defeated Quen releases Vanaereis' hand and rises to his feet. "We can pay." He groans through gritted teeth.

"How much?" She inquires, not wanting to miss out on a payday. Perhaps, she could get them to toss in the journal too. They don't seem that interested in it anymore, anyways. Plus, she'd be doing them a favor by taking it.

"Ya, Quen how much?" Cuber reiterates.

"A hundred thirty thousand gold." Quen answers. His tone still sounds like he doesn't want to give it up. She can't blame him. 130,000 gold is a lot and she'd be a fool not to take it. It would cover rent, but at what cost? Her life?

Cuber huffs. "I ain't paying that."

Quen gestures 'one minute' then turns away from Vanaereis and leans over Cuber. "We need her." He whispers.

"I say we forget her and find it ourselves." Cuber barks, blatantly disregarding Quen's attempt at keeping the conversation between the two of them.

Frustrated, Quen sighs. "We already tried." He takes a big breath, trying to keep his patience with his friend. "Look at it this way, it's just a few copper in-exchange for lots of gold."

"If ya put it that way." Cuber caresses his long beard as he thinks it over. "I'm in."

Quen turns around to face Vanaereis again. "Sorry about that." He casually leans on the bar. "What do you say?" He playfully smiles. "Want to go for a ride in my space ship?"

"Hey! It's mine!" Cuber hollers.

Vanaereis laughs internally. Only, a small smile could be seen if they had been looking at her, thankfully, they weren't. She decides that she should at least ask more questions before turning them down. "What do you need me to find?"

Quen becomes giddy, "We need you to find a Vault..."


End file.
